


Monster/Monsterhunter, Staying Quiet.

by Noblebutch (kamrynwhowanders)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Human/Monster Romance, Monster Hunters, Monsterfucking, Monsters, Other, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quiet Sex, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23514742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamrynwhowanders/pseuds/Noblebutch
Summary: a monster consensually doms the hell out of a monster-hunter in a shed, where any of the other monsterhunters on this mission could walk by at any moment and hear them. Another one from the smut generator https://perchance.org/or1t9nqed5
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Monster Character, Original Male Character/Original Non-Binary Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Monster/Monsterhunter, Staying Quiet.

“Shhh,” the monster murmurs, with its clawed hand wrapped around the monsterhunter’s throat, and he makes no sound except for harsh, ragged breaths, pressed into the dark with the monster. “Do you want them to hear you?”

The other hunters are roaming outside, systematically searching for the thing in the dark with him, and he bares his teeth silently at the monster. 

“Maybe I do. I could scream,” the monsterhunter threatens, in a whisper. 

“You could,” the monster agrees, but it presses closer, and its many, many teeth gleam white in the cracks of moonlight that come through the door. It nuzzles up against his cheek, its breath hot against the curve where his jaw meets his throat, the slightest prickle of its teeth threatening his jugular, the pressure of its hand just barely less than suffocating. His eyes close despite himself, lips falling open in a soundless gasp. “But then you won’t get what you want.”

“And what is it I want?” he challenges, and pushes as hard as he can against the monster’s chest, when it’s got him pinned into the wall by his throat. It doesn’t budge, only wraps one leisurely hand around his wrists to pin them over his head. It’s so _effortless._ It’s so strong, the lethal, sharp-edged bulk of it, and he makes a choked, involuntary sound. 

The monster scrapes teeth across his jaw, and he bites his lip, tipping his head back ever-so-slightly. “You want me to keep going.”

The monsterhunter sucks in a hard breath as the monster moves its hand down from his throat, dragging claws down his chest, catching at his shirt.

“If you scream, I’ll vanish off into the night, and we will see if you can behave better next time I catch you in the dark.” 

“And if I’m quiet?”

The monster answers by rocking its hips, grinding into him with - whatever it has down there, and a wash of hot, embarrassing excitement makes the monsterhunter bite his lip, knees falling apart, and, okay. Okay.

He bites his lip hard when the monster carefully, carefully undoes every button of his shirt, its claws clicking against the plastic, and for some reason this is more obscene than the thing just clawing it off him in shreds. (He’ll be able to button it back up afterward. He’ll walk out in front of the rest of them and look ordinary, and whatever marks are left on him will be hidden, _secret._ ) It slips its claws into his waistband and he tenses, eager, but it just slips the tails of his shirt out of his pants, pulls them loose and aside until his whole chest is bared.

“Dressed in white, all clean and virginal,” the monster hums. “I won’t bleed you then. Red blooms too obviously on white.”

“How considerate.” He means it to sound cool, but it comes out a little breathless, desperate. 

“Shhh,” the monster says, and bites his mouth, catching his lip in its teeth. “Be silent. They can’t hear me, hunter. They _can_ hear _you_. Wear black next time, if you want the marks of my teeth and claws in blood.”

 _Won’t be a next time,_ the hunter lies to himself, as the monster seizes him in a devouring kiss, teeth scraping and tongue flickering between his lips, long and forked. Its breath tastes like rich, dark greenery and gunmetal, and the hunter’s mouth falls open to let the monster fill his mouth with its tongue. It’s tracing claws across his bare chest, and he feels it undo the buckle of his belt. Abruptly, he becomes aware of just how fucking hard he is, of how much it _aches_ , and when the monster finally pulls its tongue out of his mouth to let him gasp and pant, he arches his back, tilting his hips toward it. He wants to reach down, touch himself, but his wrists are still pinned with the hand that isn’t fucking him up. 

It pops the button on his jeans, and slides the zip down with aching, tormenting slowness. Air hits his dick, and the monster rumbles at him, pleased. “Eager for me.” 

Mortification and arousal combine to heat his entire face, because, yeah, he’d gone commando for this one, and. He hadn’t _meant_ for this to happen, but after the first time he’d been pinned and purred at sharp and dirty by the monster… he’d known there was a possibility. Hadn’t expected to get called out for it. He squeezes his eyes shut, tipping his head back with a thump, and the monster chuckles at him, and wraps a hand around his dick. 

Fuck. He almost swears out loud, but bites his lip, just exhales short and sharp through his nose with a muffled noise. Its claws are tucked out of the way, just its too-smooth, warm skin touching him. God, its hands are so big, and it rubs a thoughtful thumb over the head of his dick, collecting slick, before it closes its fist and just jerks him off, brutal, almost too hard but _just right,_ a little too dry, too hot. He’s stifling little punched-out noises, his hands flexing in the monster’s grip.

It pauses, and he makes a desperate sound despite himself. 

“Shh,” it says, amused, and then licks his precome off its hand as he watches in wide-eyed, aching lust. It presses closer to him, and another appendage entirely has entered the picture, big and hot and slick, pressing up against his abdomen. 

He closes his eyes tight, focuses on breathing evenly and not making noise. The monster adjusts some angles, shifts his wrists in its grip, and then its dick is rubbing up against his, and it’s crushing him into the wall, its bulk pressing into him, its dick grinding against his, and, god, he’s going to come in ten seconds flat from frotting with a monster, it’s like high school all over again but substantially more fucked up this time. 

The monster presses its face into his throat as it fucks against him, its breath rough and hot, and then finally lets go of his wrist so it can wrap both powerful hands around his waist and _pick him up_ to hold him at a more convenient height. He feels abruptly used, just a thing for this monster to mount, and the thought is shatteringly hot. He’s so fucking turned on, and its dick is just unthinkably large and decidedly inhuman. He wants it inside him so bad he could die, but isn’t stupid enough to think that being fucked dry in the woods with no prep by something that big would end well for him. God, the idea of it, though. He wants to moan, has to swallow it back. He’s supposed to be quiet. He’s supposed to be _good._

He comes, soundless, holding his breath until he almost blacks out in the effort to not make noise, and the monster just keeps relentlessly grinding into him, using him, while he clings to its shoulders pathetically. Eventually it pulls away to come, with a subsonic rumble. Even dazed and shaking, he does appreciate that it didn’t come on him. Might’ve been hard to explain that one. 

It lowers him to the ground, and he stumbles, knees shaking unexpectedly. Fuck. 

Someone says something loudly in the distance, and his blood freezes. He hastily does his best to clean up, tucks his dick back in his pants, starts buttoning himself back up. There’s livid red scratches all up and down his chest, and he buttons all the way up to his collar, half-zips his jacket over it for good measure. He takes a moment to let his heart rate and breathing go down to normal, and somewhere in the middle of all that, he notices that the monster is gone, as though it never existed at all. 

He leaves the strange little wooden cupboard and goes to rejoin his crew.

Next time, he’ll be wearing black.


End file.
